"You really are in trouble now! You were safe in here!" (Dream)

I had (what felt like) a very long dream last night of dying in a hospital.

My symptoms: Not being able to swallow, shallow breathing, unexplained rash on my arms and legs.

There were three to a room. The room strangely looked like the back spare room from my Grandmother's house but I would later discover in the dream the "hospital" was in her carpenter's shed. (It's a dream, remember?)

Normally my not-so-pleasent dreams consist of zombies in numerous ways of attack. This dream had mention of zombies but I don't recall ever seeing one in the dream.

Well, anyway... in the dream I remember being allowed five minutes in the ER before Health Insurance wouldn't cover anything else. They tucked me away in one of those ER rooms just long enough for me to hear over the loud speakers, "Your five minutes are up!"
I grumbled, "Figures," just moments before a doctor pushed his way into the cubical like medical room. He took what seemed like a gallon of blood and let me know that they had a room available to me until the tests came back.

"I don't have money for that. Five minutes are up. Health Insurance isn' t covering anything now." I plead with him to just call me with the results but the doctor laughs at me and leaves the room, I overhear him telling a nurse to 'stick her with the other ones.'

Fast forward >>>>

I'm in the room they stick me in, the one I previously mention. My bed is in the middle. There is a large grassy plant hanging over me and making my hives worse. I remember trying to make small talk with the woman to my left before I realized she was deceased.
"She died five hours ago." The middle-aged woman to my right clarified.
"What? Why haven't they moved her?" My voice unsteady.
"No Health Insurance. They will move her last on a garbage day... if they get around to it." The woman scoffed.
"Been here long?" I ask, thinking about how large the bill will be.
"Two years next month. Waiting on blood tests, my symptoms went away after a day or so of waiting but its clean here and no one seems to bother me much. I figure they can't send a bill if they're still charging me." The lady chuckled. I found her annoying. She was a bit overweight, had wild curly short hair that bore gray roots to crudely dyed brown hair. She looked mousy and un-kept. Her clothes were street clothes and she never looked at me directly, her gaze never left the soap opera on the small television mounted on the wall.

The dead woman separated me from the large window to my left. I choked down tears. Somehow I knew that I had been kidnapped by the Hospital and I was doomed to die or watch soap operas for the rest of my life: Both outcomes scared me equally. I fell asleep to the sound of Mousyhair speaking along the words to the television, like she had seen the program hundreds of times before. I awoke much later to the dead woman making popping noises with her body. The dead woman's head twisted in my direction, mouth slightly agape and her eyes vacant. My fear turned to annoyance when I realized it was the not-so-dead woman making the popping noise with her legs. "These hospital beds are killer." She spoke mainly to herself, throwing her head back in a mighty triumphant fit of laughter. I rolled my eyes and got up to look out the windows. I felt like the room was a couple floors up (couldn't recall an elevator ride, but then again... how did I get there, anyway?) But I saw the familiar backyard of my Grandmother's house, it also appeared that we were on the ground level.

"I can get us out of here." I say aloud to myself as my fingers quickly start to open the window. It took moments that felt like ages but the window gave, crackling and creaking. As I pushed it open a cool breeze of fresh air rushed in and I took my first full breath in days. I felt much better. Fuck the blood test. I hoisted my leg up to crawl out of the window when Mousyhair seemed to hover on the opposite side of her bed. I couldn't see her feet to be sure. "I wouldn't do that." Her voice was demonic.

I gave a weak smile, "But it's nice out here. All sunshiny and perfect." I tried to sound convincing, as one would to entice a friend into a cold pool on a summer day. I didn't stick around to see if Mousyhair was actually floating or not because I fell from the window, three stories down, landing on my back. I stood up to dust myself off and look at the bleak dried grass visage around me. My eyes canvasing the horizon. It felt like I was seeing shadows run at the edge of the woods but surely my mind was playing tricks on me. "You really are in trouble now! You were safe in here!" Mousyhair called down to me in her demonic voice. I didn't turn to look at her, my eyes still trying to focus on the familiar landscape.

Then I heard a man's voice behind me, "She's right, you know." I turned around to face the ER doctor who had put me there. "Its not safe out here." He had something in his right hand and was tapping his left palm with it. A scalpel or syringe? I never got a good look because I heard a howl in the distance, a very human howl, a zombie howl. I remember sucking in a lot of air and running with a camera scene all jiggly like in Cloverfield or Blair Witch Project; a flew glimpses of the doctor and the figures running in the distance. I wasn't sure if they were memories or what I was seeing because my eyes opened and Hubby's soft snoring and his hand gently resting on my shoulder grounded me back into reality.

It was just a dream.
It was just a dream.
It was just a dream.

Why We are Eloping

For one, Hubby and I have known each other for quite some time. Most of our communication and hanging out was done without informing the masses. Our friendship for the most part was private. Not because we felt we had to be secret, but because we never felt a need to blab it around town. Our time together was always special and outside populace was never a concern. Our mutual friends reacted both shocked and not-so-shocked at us announcing the news. They were shocked because no one realized how close we were and not-so-shocked because they could totally see us together.

I know I love him. I know he loves me. That is not in question. To us, we don't need an audience to prove our vows valid. Not to mention the gawkers that would show or the abundance of drama that could ensue from our drunken friends speaking to our relatives. "Remember when..." stories would rosy our cheeks super quick-like.

So I guess in a way, we are saving face and giving everyone the middle finger too. Not so much in a "Screw you guys, we don't need you!" kind of way but in a, "You guys are awesome but we would rather be alone for this." kind of way. So maybe the middle finger is just to our exes and those that were trying to keep us apart although we were friends with each other and we refused to stop txting and calling each other.

Don't take it personally. My grandmother (whom could lay an egg with excitement that I'm marrying a man) isn't invited to see the exchange of vows and legal signing of documents. That is saying something. Also, our mothers had the same excitement and glee, "I'm just happy you two found each other and will be married!" At this point they just want me to squeeze out a kid or two and us live under the same roof-- I don't think they really care about the rest. (It's all just a technicality to get married, really.)

Basically-- Us getting married is just a socially enforced thing that also enables us to do all those fancy things you're trying to keep gay people from. We want those fancy state/federally acknowledged things. Plus, I think he really digs the idea of me sporting his last name. Nothing to do with religion or if I wore white or not.... or what soandso said to soandso... and "zOmg, can you believe her hair?" Yeah... none of that. At least not on our dime. You can do that all you want from afar on Facebook. (Which, duh, will happen)

In two weeks we move under one roof.

C a n n o t       w a i t!

I dream the craziest things....

I blocked out her last name and picture just because... well... I did. Didn't know if she wanted to be outted via my blog. I will try my best to maybe translate the dream into what I think it might of meant...

Everything I've read about dreaming of being inside a church has something to do with needing guidance and looking for someone to help with such. Also, being inside a church represents the need to find someone to help transition into a happier place. (Kati, you can take that any way you like. heh) Furthermore, since a church is a moral place it is possibly to have the feeling of straying from an original path due to moral wrongs or deception that has taken place.

I couldn't seem to find "rude" in any dictionary and I decided I would focus on how I felt in the dream in response to the rudeness. Anger is what Kati represented in the dream, so I did look that up. It just said that by having anger in the dream it was an anger that has been repressed in the waking hours. Every time Kati was rude to me in the dream I could feel the swell of shame and sadness in my heart. Shame signifies guilt during the waking hours, as well as having minimal integrity and how it is actively damaging the way people see me. Being sad in the dream expresses the fact that if I am ever again to feel true bliss, I am to discontinue all negative thoughts. (All very on point)

What I didn't tell Kati was that I viewed her as an ex-lover [in the dream]... but I never felt in the dream that we had actually been in love or even had sex prior. (I know for a fact that we have not done either of those things in the waking hours... That, I would remember.) I also read what it means to dream of an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend and came up with nothing that really fit... So I looked up Crush (as in, "to have a crush") and apparently, I am either repressing my crush that I have on Kati or she is just embodying someone I do have a crush on and I either can't accept it (or acknowledged it) and I need to let her know about it... or the crush she may be forcing me to acknowledge. The fact that Kati snubs me in the dream resembles me dealing with that in my waking hours, I'm mentally preparing myself to get let down... again... by someone I have a crush on. (That, my friends, is eerily on point) It also touches on my constant insecurities of a crush not liking me back and the reality of how it will make me feel once the fear is confirmed.

The only thing I could find about a mattress is that it represents a stage of life. Bed comes up with a big more in-depth stirring of ideas. To dream of my own bed is security and the need to settle down. Also, a bed represents my need for domestic bliss. (Also, on point) The fact that it's a single mattress and in the dream they were separate leads me to interpret that as I am keeping a balance of who I allow in my bed, but the fact that we're still in the same room, a rather large bedroom if you want to think about it, touches on my sexual desires. Since we just had a small mattress on the floor the term Pallet symbolizes an estranged relationship and parting between lovers. Kati and I aren't close at all... so maybe that's the estranged relationship?

The boxes of artwork represents the collections of aspirations, ideas and past reflections that I'm trying to contain onto canvas and keep organized. It's something I'm willing to explore but only at my own pace. The fact that it was the only thing else in the room as to hold some semblance to keep true to myself and my self-expression while I pursue another.

I'm glad Kati has been such a good sport about this and I hope I truly didn't weird her out too much.... especially since we aren't all that close to begin with.

xoxo,

SallyD